


Honey, Honey

by Aneonmoose



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - Andy Wier
Genre: Adultery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Bossy Beck, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dialogue Heavy, Disco, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Guilt, Hermes - Freeform, I Tried, Love Confessions, M/M, Melissa has bad (great) taste in music, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reminiscing, Stoned Mark, Touch-Starved, lmao i suck at writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneonmoose/pseuds/Aneonmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is in a blissful half-lucid state and says some things he definitely means, Chris is embarrassed and Beth and Melissa talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slenderlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenderlock/gifts).



> Title by ABBA, because we all know Mark secretly loves disco, although ABBA is technically pop, not disco. Also, doctor Bossy Beck saves the day! Shit ending, sorry. I hope you enjoy, nevertheless!

"Mark, turn around and lift your arms." Chris said, his voice monotone and professional. Mark obliged as Chris gently patted his torso to check for other injuries. The ribs were obvious without much effort, considering the rations NASA had Mark on were stretched pretty far and he'd lost a lot of weight. Chris didn't admit it to his crewmate but the sight of it made his stomach churn. 

"Whoa, doc, gettin' a little low there. My pelvis is fine, you know." Mark exclaimed and it was then that Chris saw his hands were resting on Mark's bare hips. 

"Sorry." Chris mumbled, turning away from his friend to grab a glass of water and some pain medication. "Here, take these. I'll get you something to eat soon, but you can't have too much or you'll get sick."

"As long as it's not a potato." Chris chuckled lightly at that, watching as Mark downed the entire glass. He handed the glass back to his friend. 

"Okay, you should take a shower as soon as the meds kick in."

"Oh, cause you always smell like a field of roses." Mark mumbled sarcastically, but agreed anyway. It  _had_ been a long time since he showered or bathed. "How long 'till they start working?"

"Half an hour," Beck said, biting his lip. Mark was clearly in agony. "Take slow, deep breaths even if it hurts, or you'll hyperventilate." Mark smirked.

"Whatever you say, doctor Bossy Beck." Chris rolled his eyes, helping his best friend sit down on his bunk. "My God, how I missed proper beds. Sleeping in the rover really fucked with my back."

"I, um-" Dr Beck wondered if he should say what he was planning to, "I could... give you a massage?" Mark gave his friend and doctor a strange look and Chris lowered his head. "Nevermind."

 

Twenty-five minutes later, Mark had turned on the shower and stared at the rising steam. Chris had helped him out of the soiled jumpsuit but he could barely lift his arms without yelling in pain. Beck knocked on the bathroom door. 

"You alright in there?"

"Uh... no, not really." Mark answered, sighing.  The door opened slowly and Chris' worried face appeared in the small crack.  "Can you- can you help me?"

"Erm, sure." Chris kept his eyes fixed on Mark's the entire time. Mark dealt with the embarrassment by making jokes, like he used to. For a while, Chris felt like everything was normal. Like they hadn't left their crewmate on Mars. Like nothing had changed. "How are your ribs?"

"Sore," Mark mumbled, hissing when his friend's hand ghosted over them. 

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but since the painkillers aren't working, I'll have to administer morphine." 

"Whatever you gotta do, doc." Mark wasn't about to admit they weren't working because he'd been dipping his potatoes in 'Martian Sprinkles'. At one point, he'd overdosed and genuinely thought he was going to die. Not the first or last time he thought it, of course. Not soon enough, or perhaps too soon, Chris had shut the water off and grabbed a towel. He gently and cautiously patted Mark dry, keeping his face emotionless. "I feel so much better now. Last bath I had was heated up with the RTG." 

"God..." Chris whispered, feeling faint when he realised Mark was using deadly plutonium pellets to heat up water. "Wait. Bath?" 

"Yeah, I made it out of a bunk. Not yours, though. That's the one I slept on." Mark murmured, smirking. 

"Ha." Beck answered emotionlessly. "Okay, let me get some sweats and a shirt for you. Hang on." Mark nodded, staring at himself in the wall sized mirror. He grimaced. He looked horrible. His ribs were plum colored, bruised and broken. They hurt like hell, too, more than the satellite rod implement. He had a scar from that, a large, ugly scar. It healed wrong because he'd torn it open a good few times. His face was pale, lips gray as well as his eyes. "Mark? Are you okay?" Chris asked. Mark licked his lips. 

"No." He managed before the tears spilled from his eyes. Chris breathed out. 

"Do you want to just cry for a bit? It's a perfectly normal reaction. I won't judge you and no one else needs to know." Mark shook his head. 

"No- No, I'm - I'm okay." Mark sniffled, taking a deep breath before screaming, "Fuck!", the pain flaring up made his knees go weak.  

"It's okay to cry." Chris said gently. Mark shook his head. 

"Can we not do this while I'm naked? I've already got PTSD, don't worry, I'll cry at some point." He mumbled, immediately regretting it when he saw the fear and pain in his doctor's eyes. However, he couldn't 'unsay' it so he just stayed silent. When he was dressed, Chris helped him float down to his bunk, the temporary sick bay. Mark would never admit it but he was so glad Chris was the doctor and not Vogel or Johanssen. Not because he didn't like them, Vogel was his favorite German and and Johanssen was like his little sister, but because that gave him an excuse to be touched by Chris. Especially now, with those ribs. When they reached Chris' quarters, the bossy doctor sat him down on the bed while he prepared the IV. "Y'know, you can probably just stick me with the syringe, no need to bother with this whole mess."

"Do you want me to kill you?" Chris asked, arching an eyebrow but not looking at his friend. 

"That reminds me... um... if I die..."

"You're not going to."

"But if I do... can you arrange a viking funeral for me? It'd be so badass to float on a lake in a burning boat."

"How many times have you thought about this?" This time, Beck looked up, biting his lip to stifle a smile.

"When you're alone on Mars in either a rover the size of a van or a Hab made out of canvas, you think 'bout death a lot." Chris' smile fell. "But I'm glad I didn't die on Mars, 'cause then how would I have my dream funeral?"

"Hold out your arm." Chris commanded, brushing antiseptic on the crook of his elbow before tapping the area with two fingers, trying to find a suitable vein. He didn't even give Mark warning before pushing the needle into his arm. 

_"Ow! Jesus!" He exclaimed, frowning._

_"Oops." Chris said, smirking._

_"What the hell?" Mark asked, cowering away from Beck slightly. Chris crossed his arms, eyes unreadable. Mark knew he was angry, after all, they were best friends and besides, Mark could read him like a book, but why? "Why are you suddenly so pissed at me?"_

_"You should've died back there, Mark. I don't know why Commander Lewis turned around to get you. I didn't want to come back for you, none of us did."_

_"That's not true, you came back."_

_"We just wanted to stay in space a bit longer, honestly. And you know, space sex is just so amazing, 'specially with Beth. God, the things she can do..."_

_"Chris, quit it. What're you trying to achieve?"_

_"You should've just killed yourself." Chris hissed, open palm making contact with Mark's cheek._ He jolted awake, gasping. "Mark, thank God. You passed out when I inserted the IV and I thought we'd lost you again." This time, Watney didn't care. He burst into tears, sobbing pathetically. Chris bit his lip, holding his crewmate close, rocking slightly, as he waited for him to calm down. 

"That wa- was so ho- horr- horrible!" He hiccuped, showing no signs of calming down. 

"But it's okay now, you're okay, we're on the Hermes, we've got you, you're safe, everything's okay." Chris murmured, not knowing what else to do. Melissa appeared in the doorway. 

"Is he okay?" She mouthed and Chris just looked at her, eyes glistening with tears. It hurt him so much to see Mark in so much pain. Melissa sighed, licking her lips, before she continued walking, reaching Beth's room. 

"Hi, Beth." She whispered, walking in. Johanssen smiled widely when she saw her commander. 

"What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me for a long time."

"Okay, what is it?" Beth's smile faltered. Melissa sighed, sitting beside her friend. 

"I- I don't really know how to say this so I'll just - " She took a deep breath, clenching her fists so tightly, her knuckles turned white. "I love you, Beth." Beth Johanssen was the second person to pass out on the Hermes that day. 

 

"Mm, Beck..." Mark mumbled, waving his arm in the air vaguely. "C'mere."

"What's up?"

"J- Just c'mere." Martinez snickered, taking a sip of grape juice. Beck flipped him off, walking up to Watney, standing over him as he lay on the couch, left arm splayed out, the morphine IV slowly dripping into his veins. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, focusing on his friend's face. "You- My God, Beck, you - you have  _really_ blue eyes." Martinez choked on his drink. Vogel cleared his throat and murmured, smirking, " _Ja_ , doctor, Mark is right." 

"Vogel, shut up."

" _Nein,_ Chris,  _es ist wahr._ " _  
_

"O- oh yeah, V- Vogel, I had to d-do your crappy chemistry work."

"At least chemistry is real  _Wissenschaft,_ not like botany." Martinez, who'd just recovered from his coughing fit, started choking again. 

"Martinez, glad to see you choking on something other than dick." Beck announced, making Vogel collapse into a fit of laughter. Mark, who was too high to laugh properly, just snickered. 

"That reminds m-me Beck -- I wanted to ask if- if your lips are as soft as- as they look." Chris thought he was going to spontaneously combust, that's how hot his cheeks became. Mark tried lifting himself to test that theory himself but he was too out of it. Instead, Beck leaned down so that he was close enough to whisper to Watney and no one else would hear and murmured, "Why don't you find out for yourself, Watney?"

"Get a room!" Johanssen shouted, walking in. Shit. Perhaps he wasn't quiet enough. 

"Oh my God!" Mark exclaimed, grinning. Johanssen paused.

"What?"

"Your lips are red and - and swollen. You - you just made -made out with someone!" Then he frowned. "But Beck's - Beck's here so- so who?" That was when Commander Lewis walked in, her hair disheveled. Mark opened his mouth in shock, laughing incredulously. "Beth and Melissa, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" He sang off-key, chuckling. 

"Watney, shut up. Beck, what did you do?" Lewis asked, crossing her arms defensively. Chris sighed, shaking his head.

"I gave him morphine and he just - "

"I l-l-l-ove you, B-Beck. Nothi- Nothing hurtsssssss." Mark grinned dumbly, using his legs to pull Beck onto the couch. Then, he plopped them down on his lap and sighed contentedly, immediately falling asleep. 

"We all love Beck, don't we?" Martinez chuckled and Vogel snorted. 

" _Ja,_ doctor, but none as much as Watney himself." 

"What was that he said about Beck being here?" Lewis asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

"Um..." Beck hoped Johanssen would save him but she just shrugged innocently.

"Is there something I should know about?"

"Erm, no."

"Erm, _yes_." Mark murmured woozily. So he wasn't asleep after all. Cheeky fuck. "Comm-commander Lewis, Beck and - and... and, um, Johanssen, um, did - did the nasty."

"Is that true?" Lewis' voice hardened. Beck shook his head, vehemently denying it. Beth shrugged.

 

"Once."

" _Beth!_ " Chris hissed, covering his face with his hands. Mark snickered.  

"But now... now, Lewis and Joh- Johanssen - um... wait, what was I sayin'?" Martinez snorted, turning around to do something on his laptop. Vogel arched an eyebrow, grabbing a protein bar from the breakfast bar and walked out, mumbling something about going to talk to his wife. Seeing his friend leave, Rick silently picked up his laptop and followed Alex, a smirk on his face. Beth and Melissa sighed simultaneously. 

"Is he asleep?" Beth asked, gesturing towards their stoned crewmate. Chris poked Mark's cheek and got no response. The only thing assuring Beck that his best friend hadn't died was the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. "Good. Um, Chris..."

"Beth and I are..." Melissa trailed off, grabbing Beth's hand. Chris smirked, crossing his arms. 

"Yeah, guys, we all know. We've all known for about... um... five years?"

" _What?!_ " Beth exclaimed, making Mark groan. "We've only just -"

"No, I mean, you were both pining like fucking crazy for five years. And yeah, Melissa's married, but that's never stopped anyone before." Beck shrugged. "It's good. It's also good that Mark's not gonna remember hearing, if he even has, because you guys aren't gonna hear the end of this." Beth chuckled, nodding. 

"That's true." Chris smiled softly. He and Beth had a, well, fling, but Chris couldn't complain about it. While the short girl was very skilled, he thought about a different, also blue eyed person, whom he'd much rather have a ''fling'' with, except... not. A fling would hurt. He wanted a relationship. 

 

 

"What're you thinking about, Chris?" Mark asked him a few days later, while he was still sober. Chris shrugged as his crewmate sat beside him on his bed. "You've been very quiet lately."

"You wouldn't know, you're constantly stoned." Chris murmured, smiling. Mark shrugged. 

"I'm not now. C'mon, tell your old friend what's on your mind."

"You're not old, Mark."

"I'm 45, Beck."

"That's not old. Besides, I find older guys hot."  _Shit!_ Where did that come from? Did Chris just admit to Mark he finds guys hot? Mark's shocked expression let him know he wasn't dreaming. Shit. It wasn't like Mark was homophobic, or at least he didn't think so. Hardly anyone was, these days. Still, Mark fell silent. Chris sighed deeply, falling backwards and groaning, "Fuck me."

"I - Well, if you insist." Mark choked out after a moment, still looking surprised, however now, a smirk was ghosting over his lips. Chris didn't know what was better. Mockery or silence. "You know I haven't forgotten that thing you whispered to me the other day."

"What?"

"That thing about finding out for myself. I was high, but not  _that_ high. When my best friend, doctor and the hottest guy I've ever known basically gave me permission to make out with him, I sobered up."

" _Fuuuuuuuuuuck._ " Apparently, the constant cussing pissed Mark off because he shut Chris up by pressing his chapped lips to Beck's own. 

"By the way," Mark mumbled, pulling away, "I've wanted to do that since we first met."

"Glad to hear it. Now shut up and kiss me."

"I'd love to but you're gonna need to sit up because my ribs are killing me." Chris looked worried, sitting up as Mark winced.

"Do you want morphine?"

"Nuh-uh. I'm savoring this moment sober." They were about to kiss again when Chris stopped. "What?"

"A-are you sure? Are you sure this isn't just the fact that you were alone on Mars for over a year and a half?" Mark frowned, gently but firmly pushing his doctor away. 

"You know, you could've just said you don't want me. You don't need to look for excuses. If this was just me wanting to touch someone, I'd make out with Beth. Or Lewis. Or Martinez. But not you, Beck, because I - I wouldn't want to ruin things. So - So if you don't feel the same way, just forget this happened." Mark was gone before Chris could respond. The younger doctor groaned in exasperation at himself and fell backwards again, punching the mattress with his clenched fist. 

 

"Beck! Get into airlock 2 right now!" Beth's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He jumped up, following the short astronaut to the airlock.

"What's going on?"

"Watney can't breathe, he's about to pass out."

"The hell's he doing in airlock 2?" Beck asked, but the answer never came because he saw his crewmate, lips cyan and eyes full of terror. "Watney, can you hear me?!" Chris exclaimed, grabbing his best friend's arm. Mark nodded weakly. With the help of Beth and Melissa, they got Mark into the rec room, which was much larger and made it easier to diagnose their recently recovered crewmate. "Mark. Mark, it's Chris. You're alright. You're on the Hermes with us."

"I can-can't breathe!" Mark choked out. Chris shook his head. 

"Yes you can."

"Beck, what the hell?! Do something!" Lewis hissed but Beck just waved her away.

"Everybody, leave. I can handle this." The ARES III crew left, reluctantly. Only Beth seemed to understand and she ushered her friends away, gently shutting the door. "Mark. Look at me.  _Look at_ _me_." Mark glanced up, eyes red and bloodshot. "I'm breathing. There's air. You can breathe, even if it hurts." He knew his crew was watching them through the windows but it didn't matter. Mark was still panicking, still gasping for air, still terrified. There was only one think Chris could think of. Fully accepting the risk of Lewis being pissed at him, Beck pressed his lips to Mark's. He heard the loud gasp behind them but didn't care. Mark ran his fingers through Beck's hair and tugged, as though trying to get them as close as possible. It was a chaste, close-mouthed kiss but it did the trick, bringing Watney back to reality. "How could you ever think I didn't want you? I risked my life to save you and would do it again in a heartbeat." Chris murmured, holding Mark close. He realised his crewmate's ribs were probably sore as hell but he knew Watney wouldn't let go. That announcement pushed the older astronaut over the egde. A silent moment passed before he burst into tears. 

"Why? I'm just a lame botanist." He choked out, burying his face in Chris' sweater. 

"Because I love you, Watney. You hear me? I love you."

"You- what?"

"I love you. Fuck, Mark, I considered going out with low oxygen and bumping up my CO2 so many times when we returned to Hermes. And then Mitch told us you're alive and - and I almost took all the morphine. I pronounced you dead, I did this to you, I-" Chris couldn't continue, fat tears rolling down his stubbly cheeks. Mark kissed the salty streaks, own eyes watering all over again. 

"No, no, no, no, no, Chris, no. It wasn't your fault. I have  _never_ blamed you, Lewis or anyone else. You did all you could. One astronaut left behind is better than six. I -" Mark sighed. "I, um... when things got bad... worse, really, I took Vicodin to deal with it. That's why I needed more morphine and why the normal painkillers didn't work. And while I was stoned to hell, all I could think of was you. I - I get your suicidal thoughts because I frequently thought of just ending it. My recovery cost millions of dollars and I'm just one guy, but I didn't because of you. The thought of seeing you again, touching you... it got me through every day on that damned red planet." Chris was speechless. The two men stared at each other for what felt like hours, before Beck cupped Mark's face and allowed their lips to meet in a sweet, slow kiss. Mark didn't have a single nightmare that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Gifted to Slenderlock because they are AWESOME and you should totally check their stuff out!!! Correct any of my mistakes please because I am a total noob at this stuff, even though I've seen the movie 3 times... so far and read the book 1.5 times. Also, I much prefer Beck rescuing Mark than Lewis. Why'd the movie change it? I don't know, however, the ''Hey, handsome," line is bloody brilliant.


End file.
